


if you'll let me (here's what I'll do)

by naheka



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Edgeplay, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Light D/s, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fingerstripe appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 07:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18006194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naheka/pseuds/naheka
Summary: Dick's been working overtime. Jason helps him relax.





	if you'll let me (here's what I'll do)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta for this, I also don't really write m/m smut so that's new and embarrassing.
> 
> also I was kind of high when I wrote this so there's probably some wild typos

Jason finds Dick in the ‘Haven.

He’s perched on a ledge, hidden in the shadows of two buildings. He’s got no business balancing so good like that, the ledge only just five inches wide. Knees bent and those blue blue fingers splayed on the brick of the wall--a tell, to those who know him well. Dick doesn’t need a steadying hand when he’s at 100%. Jason, on the rooftop above, whistles, low and trilling with a hitch right in the middle: a birdcall.

Dick’s head tilts in his direction, but he doesn’t turn around, focus fixed on the warehouse across the street. His fingers move on the bricks, short flicker taps and longer presses.

 _F-u-c-k o-f-f_ he spells out in Morse code.

Jason laughs, low and soft, and jumps from one roof to another, ducking into a shoulder roll before righting himself and sitting on the edge, legs dangling off the side just above Dick’s head. “Careful, Big Bird. You’ll hurt my delicate feelings.”

From this angle he can see Dick’s face, the sharp angles of his mask and the way it breaks up his features in the light of the moon through the clouds and the dim flickering yellow of the streetlamps. He’d bet the grenade strapped to his left thigh that if the mask was off it’d reveal dark circles under Dick’s eyes and hollows in his cheeks. “You’re resilient,” Dick says, and his voice rasps more than it usually does, stuck halfway between Batman and Nightwing and losing Dick Grayson somewhere in the middle. 

Jason hums, non-committal and unwilling to escalate the conversation into an argument. “Heard you might need a hand.”

Dick’s mouth slashes sideways, displeased. “Tell Oracle to keep to Gotham.”

“Tell her yourself, I ain’t a messenger for the birds. And that’s not who called.”

Dick’s mask shifts as his eyebrow raises. “Robin’s with the Titans.”

“Mmhm,” Jason confirms. He hooks a finger in the strap of his thigh holster and hums something tuneless. 

Dick is scowling at him. “Don’t tease.”

“Why?” Jason turns, wedging his boots against the side of the ledge and letting them hold his weight as he slides down the building, the scrape of it rough against his back. His legs and stomach flex and tremble with the exertion, hanging upside down. Dick leans around, looking at Jason straight on for the first time that night. “I thought you liked it when I tease.”

“And I thought you and Red Robin had a mutual hatred.”

Jason pouts at him. He’s foregone the helmet tonight, traded it for a red domino, so Dick can really see his genuine melancholy that Dick ruined his big reveal. “Spoilsport.”

Dick rolls one shoulder in a half-shrug. “You had your chance.” He looks back at the warehouse. “Tell Timmy I’m fine.”

“So fine you’re using names in the field.” Jason heaves a sigh, blown out and longsuffering. “Such is my burden, as the black sheep, to lay down the law with the white sheep--”

“Lay down the law,” Dick repeats, and he sounds amused rather than pissed.

Jason curls his lip up, more snarl than smile. “Walk on the wild side with me, Big Blue. I hate waitin’ around.”

++

Jason wishes he’d brought the helmet. It’d be worth it, just to be able to watch Nightwing in action again, when he has the time and the focus just to _watch_ him. Little hard to give Dick the audience he deserves when Jason’s busy shooting out drug dealer’s knees. 

“Better be rubber bullets,” Dick says, as he sails over Jason’s head in a backflip: toes pointed, back arched. A goddamn work of art in motion. 

“Of course, baby,” Jason says, and there’s blood across his teeth. “I know how you feel about gloving my love.”

It’s over too fast for his liking, but Dick’s left knee buckles on their exit, so it’s for the best. Jason lets him faceplant onto the ground, then offers a hand up.

“Thanks,” Dick says sourly. He slaps Jason’s palm away, dragging himself upright without a groan or a wince. “Took a hard hit earlier. Gotham.”

He grapples to a rooftop, Jason only a half-step behind. “Some might say,” Jason says, continuing the conversation without missing a beat, “that if you’re doubling up with the League and covering for the big bad Bat, you can let the ‘Haven take care of itself for a week or two.”

“Some might say your helmet looks fucking stupid.”

“Someone needs a nap,” Jason says, sing-song and mocking. Dick hits him with an elbow faster than his eye can track it, just the blur of blue and black and a stinging pain to his shoulder. Jason arches an eyebrow. “Yeah, that proves you aren’t a cranky toddler.”

Dick turns his back on Jason, exhaling sharply. He swings his arms up, stretching up onto his toes, then down, hard enough to crack his back. “Thanks for the assist,” he allows finally, and it’s not even in a grudging tone.

Jason shrugs the apology off. “No sweat. You beat for the night or what?”

Dick’s head tilts again, attuned to the offer beneath Jason’s words. “Or what,” he chooses.

Jason smiles. “Or what,” he echoes, and draws his gun, firing in the same motion. 

Dick handsprings sideways onto the chimney, then flips off it, tucking his arms in tight and barrel rolling through the air. He lands in a crouch, grinning. “I’ll give you a head start, little wing.”

Jason flutters his eyelashes beneath his mask. “You’re so good to me.” Then he takes off, holstering the gun and sprinting across the rooftops. The grapple clicks and hissing, the lines whipping out into the night air. 

He can hear Dick behind him, over the wind rushing in his ears and the drop in his stomach everytime he leaps and the ground falls away beneath him: the very faint sounds of his boots on concrete and the absolute absence of sound when he’s airborne. Jason’s running across a slanted roof, his weight on the balls of his feet and his arms held out for balance when he hears a grapple that isn’t his shoot high overhead. 

He doesn’t hear Dick but he feels him, skimming in the air just over Jason’s head. His hand drags up Jason’s jaw, cupping his temple and dragging his gloved fingers over Jason’s head, blue fingers through dark hair. The touch is only half a second long, but Jason’s shivers, his skin tingling. He stops on a dime, turning to let the momentum bleed away, and Dick lands just in front of him, eyes gleaming. “Had enough?”

“Nah,” Jason drawls. “I’m just ready for a change of scenery.”

Dick blinks. Jason smiles, pretty and soft and sweeter than apple pie on a Sunday. Then he makes the roof under Dick’s feet disappear. Dick jumps straight up, reflexes like a cat, and extends an arm to grapple away. Jason crashes into him and they fall into the dark. 

And land on a couch. 

“Admit it,” Jason says, flat on his back with Dick’s arm across his throat and Dick’s knee digging painfully into his thigh. “This was smooth.”

Dick sits up, straddling Jason’s lower stomach, and looks around. He frowns. “I didn’t know about this safehouse.”

“Good. That’s the whole point of safehouses.”

“And the disappearing roof?”

“Trade secret.” Jason props up a leg, lazy, his knee nudging against Dick’s back. “I’d hafta kill ya if I told ya.” A finger to the button hidden in the cuff of his jacket and the roof snaps back into existence, sealing them away from the rest of the world.

Dick leans down, very close, the whited out lenses of his mask almost glowing. “Change of scenery, huh?”

Jason puts both hands behind his head, fingers linked, body languid. “If you’d like.”

There’s no demand here, no expectations, no judgment. He can feel the tension bleed out of Dick’s body. “Jason,” Dick murmurs, a little hoarse. 

Jason skims his palms up Dick’s ribs, the warmth of his body through the suit, strong enough to take a low caliber bullet and blunt the edge of a knife but thin enough that Jason can feel the twitch and ripple-flex of his muscles. A wince along his left flank and a soft hiss when Jason’s thumb presses against his sternum. He’s stretched too thin, Jason knew it as soon as he got the text from Tim, of all fucking people. Covering for Batman again, except this time Tim’s in China with Cass and Steph and Damian’s in San Francisco with Duke and Dick is still an active League member and still patrolling Bludhaven after he’s done patrolling Gotham. 

“Shh,” Jason murmurs, even though Dick hasn’t said anything. “If you want it, I know what you need.” His fingers smoothes over Dick’s jaw, cradling it; his thumb brushes across Dick’s lips. 

Dick exhales, all at once. His tongue curls around the tip of Jason’s finger and pulls it into his mouth. Jason can see his throat work when he swallows, feel it on his skin. 

“Dick,” Jason says, and takes off Dick’s domino. There he is, pretty blue eyes and all. Too thin cheeks and hollowed out eyes. “You’re so tired, huh, baby boy?”

Dick’s lips tip up into a smile, slow and lazy and lighting up his face. “I’m older than you,” he says quietly. 

“Don’t dodge my question.” Jason leans up, until their lips just brush before withdrawing. “You can’t get what you want if you don’t ask for it.”

“I want you,” Dick says lowly, and Jason’s hips jerk. He rises, up onto his knees, Dick bent double underneath him, and bears his weight down until he’s pinning Dick to the couch on his back. Dick’s hips roll in a way they shouldn’t be able to and suddenly he’s not bent down against the couch; his legs hook up and he pulls himself up onto Jason to roll their bodies together. Long enough his muscles start to tremble with the effort of holding himself up; his hands dig into Jason’s back and shoulders. Then he pulls himself up and nips Jason’s earlobe, staying just there, with his lips against Jason’s cheek. “I’m tired, Jay,” he murmurs, like a secret.

“I know,” Jason whispers, lowering them back down to the cushions. “Lemme take care of you for a minute.”

“Mm,” Dick hums, going pliant when Jason winds a hand through his hair and pulls it to bare his throat to Jason’s teeth. “Okay,” he says, voice hitching when Jason bites down and sucks. “A minute.” Jason drags his tongue up Dick’s throat and bites him again, just behind his ear. Dick moans. “Maybe two minutes.”

“Good boy,” Jason says, low and throaty, and Dick melts. His suit is tight and the hidden zippers are small and Jason’s sweating by the time he’s peeled Dick out of it and tossed it carelessly aside, his holsters atop them, gun safety be damned. Their boots are more troublesome, Dick snickering into Jason’s shoulder while Jason thrashes around and curses and yanks out two packets of lube before throwing off his jacket so hard it smacks against the far wall. 

Then Dick sighs, soft and warm; everyone who’s crossed paths with him is half in love with him and he’s still the most touch hungry person Jason’s ever met and now it’s just them, skin against skin, panting messy open mouthed kisses and the slick slide of their cocks against their bellies, pressed close. 

“Prettybird,” Jason croons, his pulse thrumming. His next kiss is harder, more demanding, and Dick yield is the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, every time. He grabs one of the packets of lube and bumps it against the tip of Dick’s nose. “Open this for me, will you?”

Dick’s teeth close around the edge of it, the rectangle disappearing into his mouth.

“Lemme see,” Jason growls, and Dick’s lips curl up obediently. Jason pulls and watches the foil rip open, a smudge of it slicking Dick’s lower lip. “Thanks babe.” He pulls away, then yanks at Dick’s hips and waist, lifting him up and turning him over. Dick’s legs tuck in and he turns with Jason’s momentum and then he’s panting, braced on his forearms with his knees under him and Jason crowded up close and grinding against his ass. Jason smooths his palm down one ass cheek, then the other, then a quick stinging slap to make Dick yelp and his skin bounce. A work of goddamn art in motion.

“Jason,” Dick says, and Jason drags a knuckle up the inside of his thigh, soothing.

“I got you.” The lube is lukewarm over his fingers, dripping down to the couch and the floor, and the sound Dick makes at the first finger makes Jason’s insides clench up. He can feel the stretch when he adds the second finger too early, but Dick keens, back arching. Jason smirks. “That’s how it is, huh?” he says, one hand between Dick’s shoulderblades to keep him bent over. “That’s how you want it?” Three fingers, curling hard.

“Ah,” Dick is saying, voice high pitched and breathy, “ah---ah, fuck.”

“In a minute,” Jason says, and uses his weight to slam Dick down into the couch and finger him harder. Dick hitches his hips, grinding into the cushions. His hair is sweat damp at the temples and the nape of his neck glistens. Jason licks it, the salt and the taste of the breeze from their race on the rooftops. He pulls out and sits back, panting and so hard it’s starting to hurt. “Up onto your knees, Dickie.”

Dick trembles once he’s in position, and Jason frowns, eyes narrowed. A hit from Gotham, he remembers, and curls his fingers around Dick’s knee, massaging gently. “You know I don’t like it when you do that,” he snaps.

Dick shifts, refusing to look back at Jason. “I can take it.”

Jason grabs him by the back of the neck and shakes him like a bad puppy. He bites the same spot he’d bitten before, already blooming purple, and doesn't stop until copper skates across his tongue. Dick is panting so loud it’s deafening, big heaving shuddering gulps of air. “The whole point of this,” he growls, “is that _I’m_ the one who decides what you can take.”

Dick mewls; his eyes go glassy. “Yeah,” he whispers, his voice slightly distant. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

“Okay what?”

Dick swallows, throat bobbing. His breathing evens out. Jason can see the flutter of his pulse in the hollow of his throat. “My knee hurts, Jay.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Jason promises, and readjusts Dick’s position: on his belly with his cheek against the couch and his legs spread, knees just barely bearing weight to prop him up. It’s not the most comfortable position, but it’s not the most uncomfortable position they’ve fucked in. Jason draped himself along Dick’s back, careful to keep most of his weight off him. “You know you’re supposed to tell me without me having to ask.” He reaches under them and takes Dick’s cock in his fist, starting a slow easy movement with a twist over the head at the end.

Dick whimpers when Jason’s fingertip teases at his slit, his voice cracking. “I know.”

“Give me your hand.”

Dick fumbles for a second, but soon his hand is over Jason’s, moving a little bit faster. Dick’s hips jerk, rocking into their palms. He’s already starting to shake, too worn out to last long. That’s alright, though. Jason’s got a plan for that too. 

“I’m,” Dick gasps, and Jason stops moving. Dick shudders, mewling quietly at being denied, but doesn’t protest. Jason kisses his shoulder in reward. Then he carefully, carefully, wraps Dick’s fingers around his own cock, sliding his grip up to the base and then tightening, millimeter by millimeter, until Dick makes a low noise.

“Those long fingers of yours,” Jason murmurs. “Should have left your gloves on just for that, pretty blue stripes holding yourself tight for me.”

Dick moans, open mouthed and wanton. Jason kisses the bumps of his spine, avoiding the edge of a mottled bruise that spreads out from his right shoulder blade to his lower back. Then he reaches down and guides himself in. Dick stops breathing, heart pounding, and slow but without stopping, Jason slides into him in an unstoppable slide that sends shockwaves of tremors through Dick’s body. Jason lowers himself onto his elbows, bracketing Dick’s head, his toes dig in to the far end of the couch. Dick quivers. “Prettybird,” Jason says softly. 

Dick exhales hard, his hot breath against Jason’s arm, and Jason slides in flush against him, as deep as possible. “Jay,” he mumbles, and his free hand reaches up to grip Jason’s wrist. 

“Good boy,” Jason says, and fucks him into the ground. The springs of the couch groan with each snap of his hips, almost lost in the noises Dick’s making, each one ripped out of his chest. 

“Yeah,” he babbles, because even when Jason’s fucking all the thoughts out of his head, made him go all cloudy and empty and quiet he’s still Dick Grayson and he still never shuts the fuck up. “Yeah, c’mon, yeah, Jason.”

“I like it when you say my name,” Jason pants, and shifts his weight, adjusting. The new angle makes Dick yip and stop talking, just endless little moans tipping out of his slack mouth. “Say it again.”

Dick’s eyes flutter, rolling back before opening again, the blue almost swallowed up by his pupils. “J-” he manages, and his body jerks, his elbow flexing as he stops himself from coming. “Jay--”

Jason clucks, speeding up just a fraction. Their bodies slip against each other, sweat slick, and Jason’s starting to lose his rhythm. “Whole thing, Dickie. Let me hear it.”

“J-j-” Dick stutters.

Jason snarls. “Say my name,” he orders.

“Jason,” Dick gasps, his fingernails leaving drawing blood at Jason’s wrists. “Jason, Jason--”

“Let go,” Jason says, and Dick’s hand falls away. He comes immediately, over his belly and the couch and Jason can feel it, the clench of him with every pulse and the shaky whimpery shivers. Jason doesn’t stop, fucking him all the way through his orgasm and until he’s starting to jerk with overstimulation.

“Ah,” Dick says, twisting under him. “Ow--”

“I decide,” Jason reminds him, short of breath. His legs are starting to cramp. “I decide.”

Dick shudders, still jerking away with every thrust, but he doesn’t say the magic word so Jason doesn’t even pause. After a minute Dick’s pained whimpers slow, and quiet. Then his grip relaxes on Jason’s wrist; his head slumps down and his eyes flutter until they’re just barely slitted open, unfocused. Jason slows down until he’s barely moving, tiny rocks of his hips that jolt Dick’s pliant body forward. He comes just like that, curled up, watching Dick watch him. 

Dick makes a quiet noise when he pulls out, almost questioning. Jason kisses his jaw. “Clean up in a minute.” And hydration. They both need to hydrate. Jason rolls into the back of the couch, wincing at the cramped position. It’s a little more difficult maneuvering this time, with Dick the consistency of overcooked pasta, but soon he’s on his back with Dick draped over his chest and his fingers carding through Dick’s hair. Jason listens to the quiet sounds of Dick’s breathing and feels the warm press of Dick’s skin and drifts, just a little bit. This is his favourite Dick, fucked out and trusting, although his favourite Dick tends to be whatever Dick is currently doing, at any moment in time.

Dick floats back to him about fifteen minutes later. He blinks, once then twice, then yawns. “Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“Okay?”

Jason flicks him in the ear. “Fine and dandy.”

“Good.” Dick wiggles into him. “Ten more minutes, then shower.”

“Ten more minutes,” Jason agrees. If he plays his cards just right he might be able to get some food into Dick before he takes off. “Hey,” he says, because if he doesn’t say it now he’ll lose the nerve. “Dick?”

“Mm?”

“Let Kate take over a little.”

Dick tenses in his arms and Jason steels himself. Then Dick sighs, relaxing.

“Okay. A little.”

Jason flails a hand out and around until he finds the edge of a throw blanket. He pulls it over them. 

“Hey,” Dick objects, although he makes no move to dislodge it. “What happened to ten more minutes?”

“We were both lying to ourselves. We’re going to fall asleep and wake up in four hours feeling sticky and gross with cramped muscles from lack of electrolytes. Like men.”

Dick laughs. Jason kisses him quiet and Dick lets him, and would you look at that: it’s still the sweetest thing.

**Author's Note:**

> my comic sideblog is @ nahekalei on tumblr, main @ sunspill
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
